


On the Wind

by Lyxari



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff-Adjacent, M/M, Post-Azure Moon, brief mentions of side characters - Freeform, fic based on art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:28:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25030123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyxari/pseuds/Lyxari
Summary: Claude comes to Sylvain's rescue.((Inspired by @guessibetter's art on twitter))
Relationships: Sylvain Jose Gautier/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 19
Kudos: 126





	On the Wind

**Author's Note:**

> First I wanna give a huge huge shoutout to Spiralpegasus and Tim3hopp3r for helping me tweak and poke and prod at this to help make it suitable for posting! It's been a long time since I wrote any fanfiction myself and I was super nervous about writing this, so thank you so so much for helpin me.
> 
> Second, this fic was actually inspired by [this piece of art](https://twitter.com/guessibetter/status/1277489679173062659?s=20)on twitter, by @guessibetter, please go give em some love! The love they have for claudevain is downright inspiring! <3

Claude is late.

An axe whistles by Sylvain's face. His warhorse dances back a step, just barely giving him space to parry the blow with his lance. _'He's late,'_ Sylvain thinks again, and swipes at another enemy to his side. He refuses to consider that Claude won’t come at all, not when he sent personally for the former Duke as soon as he knew that Dimitri and their old Professor intended to march out against Those Who Slither in the Dark.

Right now isn’t the time to get lost in thought, though. He’s been cornered on the battlefield, separated from the other generals, from his own battalion -, but it’s fine. As long as he just-- takes out as many Slitherers as he can before they kill him, Sylvain trusts Dimitri and Byleth to come out triumphant, somehow.

A shadow swoops overhead - another goddess-damned flier - and Sylvain thinks, _‘Fuck, this is it, this really is going to be how I die.'_ He glances up and shoots off a bolganone spell around himself just to get a little bit of breathing room, then levels off another one at the soldiers in front of him -- but is interrupted by an arrow suddenly whistling past him and thudding into his enemy’s chest. Another lands, then another, in quick succession - _thwack, thack, thwack_ ; the soldiers fall quickly, familiar fletching marking the arrows as friendly. 

Sylvain’s grin when he recognizes the strange glow around the arrows is a helpless thing, relief and fondness in equal measure on his face. He looks up to greet his saviour, just in time to feel warm lips against his - and there’s Claude, half out of his wyvern’s saddle, already pulling away and righting himself as if he hadn’t just recklessly ducked Noli in to steal that kiss. “Sorry I’m late,” he says.

“You sure know how to make an entrance,” Sylvain says breathlessly. “Always a flair for the dramatic with you, isn’t it?” He can’t tear his gaze from Claude, can only watch as he lets loose a few more arrows before looking back down at him with a smile. 

Claude’s tender look seems out of place on the battlefield, but it fills Sylvain with a hope he hadn’t realized he was missing. “Hey now, Gautier, eyes sharp.” Claude’s tone is light even as he shoots an arrow just over Sylvain’s shoulder, catching an enemy in the eye and forcing them to fall back with a shriek. “We _are_ still on a battlefield, even if I’m late to the party.”

Right, right. He can ogle and swoon later, but for now he pulls his horse around so that he and Claude are effectively back-to-back. “Right you are,” Sylvain laughs, and lunges forward back into battle.

\------

Although Claude’s arrival (and the distinctly Almyran forces that he brought with him) quickly turned the tide of the battle, it’s another few grueling hours before things quiet down. Enemy stragglers are either retreating or being picked off one-by-one, and the Faerghan banner flies triumphant in the air.

Sylvain and Claude had gotten separated at some point in the fight. After picking off the forces holding Sylvain down, Claude had accompanied him back to the army’s main forces and then swerved off to assist Felix and Lysithea while Sylvain offered mounted support to Ingrid and her fliers.

Now, though - Sylvain stops his horse near the edge of the battlefield, searching the skies for that familiar splash of white and gold. His heart clenches, fear and worry taking hold for a moment now that he isn’t taken up in the heat of battle. Claude is a capable fighter, yes, and he had brought so many reinforcements - but no amount of skill in battle guarantees survival. Sylvain leans up out of Chrysanthemum’s saddle to scan the battlefield again, worrying his bottom lip. If Magnolia and her rider have been grounded, maybe he can get a healer in time to help, maybe--

The sound of a familiar voice loudly calling his name has Sylvain whipping his head to his left, relief apparent on his face, before it quickly morphs into shock. “Woah, woah, wait, what are you-- oof!”

Sylvain’s greeted with an armful of one Claude von Riegan, and nearly falls off his horse with the force of his landing. The only thing that saves them from a _very_ undignified roll in the mud (and dirt, and guts, and grass, and blood, and... eurgh, not thinking about that, Sylvain--) is that Mum is a very well-trained horse, and sidesteps the weight with ease. She does, however, make sure to turn her head with a snort and shoot her passengers a very unimpressed look.

“What, battle wasn't enough of a thrill for you?” Sylvain tries for reprimanding, but it comes out fond instead (his laugh doesn’t help matters). “Careful now, we don’t want an international incident just because you can’t wait to be in my arms.” Above them, Magnolia hovers exactly where Claude had jumped off of her, a few lance-lengths above Sylvan. Claude dismisses her with a wave of his hand, and she flies off to rest at camp.

“It’s alright,” Claude laughs and swoons dramatically in Sylvain’s hold. “I knew you would catch me. Since you’re such a gallant knight, and all.” The trust in his actions goes unsaid. Imperiously, Claude adds, “Now, I demand affection from my knight.”  
  
Sylvain rests his forehead against the side of Claude’s neck, shoulders shaking with laughter. “Alright alright,” he agrees, leaning down for a kiss. “Can’t believe no one guessed you were a prince back in the day,” he mumbles against Claude’s lips between kisses. “You can be just as bossy as Hilda sometimes.”  
  
“Haven’t you heard?” Fingers tug at Sylvain’s hair and pull him in closer for Claude to whisper in his ear, “It’s _King_ , now.”


End file.
